


The Princess and the Pirates

by hithelleth



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 09:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5534075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hithelleth/pseuds/hithelleth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“My brother Miles is out there at sea. He’ll help you.”</i> </p><p>Those were her father's last words.</p><p>
  <i>“How will I find him?”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“He’ll find you.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Princess and the Pirates

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 12 days of Revels.

_“Sail out. My brother Miles is out there at sea. He’ll help you.”_

Those were her father’s last words.

She had found him bleeding, a sword-wound in his chest.

She would have gone after Neville, made him pay. But she had promised her father…

_“Run. Save yourself. Don’t do anything stupid. End this…”_

So, here she was, stranded, shipwrecked, on a – what a joke – deserted island. A deserted island that had a creek, at least. She guessed she could live on fish and coconuts for a while, as long as she had drinking water.

Her father’s words and the events before his death were still a jumbled mess in her head, though. What was she supposed to end? The reign of the Evil Queen? Granted, the Queen was her mother.

And Uncle Miles…

 _“Please, princess, my ass.”_ Neville had spat the words at her, leaning close enough that his lips had all but touched her ear. _“Ever asked yourself why your dear_ Uncle _had been_ _exiled? You are nothing but a bastard brat that isn’t going to rule anybody, least of all the Middle Kingdom.”_

She had a lot of time to think about it all.

The Uncle – or was it really her father, though she wouldn’t trust Neville’s word as far as she could throw him – she had adored disappearing.

Her mother’s doting on her brother while she had barely looked at her most of the time, unless she had had anything to remark upon Charlie’s lacking in one or the other area.

Her mother becoming more and more sequestered over the years, only receiving her (well, the King’s, but everyone knew that it was the Queen was the one who actually ruled) counsellors – Charlie couldn’t decide which one was more sleazy, Neville or Flynn – beside Danny, of course.

Would her mother sink as low as to make an unloved husband and her illegitimate daughter, a source of shame and disappointment, disappear? Charlie could believe a lot of things about her mother, but that… Maybe, maybe it was just those scumbags’ own ploy, a plan that would undoubtedly yet increase their influence with the Queen.

The maybe-s and hopes and what-ifs were what started to drive her crazy as the days were passing. Sure, she was fishing and making herself a shelter and even trying to do some repairs on the ship – with no hopes to actually make it sailable, for as much as she could do a lot of things, thanks to Uncle Jeremy, some tasks were beyond her strength, no matter how much she hated that (oh, that she were a giantess, or a goddess! But those only lived in fairy-tales). But that didn’t stop her mind from spinning, thinking things over and over.

So, maybe she wasn’t thinking straight when she came back from a trip inland of her small island to find not one but two ships anchored a little out on the sea.

It was dusk already, but by the size of the ships and the men she counted on the beach it seemed a good idea at the time to do what she did. As in swimming out at night to steal a ship. Hey, she needed it, okay? She couldn’t find this lost Uncle-maybe-Father of hers by being stranded until her hair turned grey.

She managed it, too. Except that they caught up to her by dawn and then… well, she ended up with two swords at her neck.

So, excuse her if she forgot – wilfully – her manners and did not introduce herself right away. And then she kept quiet out of sheer stubbornness.

For pirates, she had to admit, they weren’t all that savage. Surely, they tied her up in the captain’s quarters and only brought her water once in a while. (More often then she really needed it, and for the first day she kept spitting it up in the bringers’ faces.)

She put it together soon enough. The flags with an unusual encircled M under the skull and crossbones. The captains calling each other by their names right in front of her was a dead giveaway, though, even without the darker-haired of the two feeling somehow familiar right from the start.

Miles and Bass.

_Sebastian._

There were enough people named Miles, but all the facts combined…

_“How will I find him? Dad?” Charlie had asked through tears._

_“He’ll find you.”_

_Then Dad'd been dead and she’d made herself tear away from him and sneaked out of the palace and the city and out onto the sea that very night._

And so it appeared Miles did find her.

Except that she wouldn’t say a damn word to them. (Okay, so maybe she was afraid. Not of them. Of being rejected. Which she would deny if anyone asked.)

In the end, she didn’t have to say anything.

The third day – she could’ve easily held out for at least another three – they found the truth oby themselves by scouting her wrecked ship.

She knew the minute Miles strode up to her with an old wooden box in his hand and demanded to know where she had got it.

She scowled and told him it was none of his business, but something must have betrayed her, or maybe he drew the obvious conclusions with the help of Monroe who casually leaned against the door, snipping random observations at them, and then Miles was kneeling in front of her in too much hurry to untie her and embrace her to manage doing either task properly – she would swear she saw a tear in a corner of his eye if he wasn’t, well, dread pirate Matheson – while simultaneously telling her off for numerous stupid things she must have supposedly done and demanding to know this and that and everything until he finally settled on one question.

“What the hell are you doing here all on your own in the middle of the ocean and where the hell is Jeremy? He was supposed to take care of you!”

Later that day they polished off a bottle of rum and a half between the three of them, talking late into the night.

They had the good stuff, she had to give them that, and god knows she needed it, they all did, with everything that came out into the open, starting with the revelation that while Miles had had a fling with Rachel – which was what had gotten him exiled – the illegitimate child was Danny, not her.

Apparently Rachel, caught in a marriage she hadn’t wanted, had slipped that one time with Jeremy. (Charlie cursed his damn naïve too good of a heart and swore she was totally going to punch him in the face. For not telling her. Not so much that other thing.)

It was Miles’ and Bass’ opinion that Rachel was more of a prisoner to Neville and Flynn, who were using her as a puppet for their own schemes, than a truly evil queen on her own.

“Your poor Dad,” said Miles, toasting up to the sky silently, “was too far in his own world, his head always in his science and literature, forgetting the tedious everyday angles of running a country. Wasn’t made for ruling. Your mother, she was a different story.”

“Power-hungry –“ Bass swallowed down the next word. “She’d like to boss everyone around and enjoy the flattery and grovelling and so she fell right for those shitheads’ crap,” he added.

Then she had to tell them about how a year ago Jeremy had got sentenced to execution for treason because he had dared to tell the Queen some choice truths and how she’d helped him fake his death and escape.

And then everything had gone only downwards for everyone in the Kingdom.

Afterwards, they hatched a plan.

“There’s only one problem,” Miles said. “We could use Jeremy for this.”

“Well,” Charlie grinned, “then it’s a good thing I might know where to find him.”

Then she jumped to her feet (and maybe staggered a little): “So what are we waiting for?”

There was no time to lose, after all. They had a friend to find, a king to avenge, and a kingdom to save.

And so it happened that six months later they were about to set out to overthrow a government with the odds people would call unfavourable if it wasn’t for the fact that they were who they were.

“Are we sure about this?” Miles asked, as they stood on the shore, looking at their four ships – The Republic, The Militia, Jeremy’s Guardian, and, of course, her own, The Princess.

Charlie looked at the three men standing beside her and gave them a wide grin.

“Hell, yes!”

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know what this is. I was inspired by the [12 Days of Revels prompt](http://theorgyarmada.tumblr.com/post/135897859239/day-one-no-blackout-verse-its-said-they-were) and just threw this out. (I don’t even know how to tag it.)
> 
> Tell me what you think? Comments are always welcome.


End file.
